


What We Were; Who We Are

by janescott



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Gift, M/M, Reunion, wistfulness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam shows up at Tommy's door at 3am, which makes Tommy a little bit reflective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Were; Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_amthecosmos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amthecosmos/gifts).



> Beta'd by magenta. It's been a long time since I wrote anything for this fandom, but it's a gift for one of my favourite people, i_amthecosmos. Enjoy (I hope!)

Tommy’s phone beeps at 3am. He’s lying awake, listening to Etta snuffle in her dogbed in the corner. His eyes are burning and he’s exhausted, but also wide awake.

Insomnia sucks.

He reaches out his hand and shuffles through the debris on his nightstand till his hand hits the corner of his phone. Picking it up, he blinks at the screen in the dark before switching on the lamp.

He squints and looks at the message.

**Adam:**

**Hey.**

Huh. He hasn’t heard from Adam in a while. Couple of months, maybe. They try to keep in touch but … another message pings through, knocking Tommy’s thoughts off course.

 

**Knock knock.**

Tommy scratches a hand through his hair, staring at the message. What. 

What the fuck. Is Adam seriously texting him knock knock jokes at - 

There’s a soft taptaptap then, and Tommy looks up.

Etta whuffles in her sleep and sighs.

“Some guard dog,” he mutters as he gets out of bed. He knows who it is, of course, and his heart starts thumping with the sudden adrenaline surge.

He opens the door and sure enough, there’s Adam - large as life and standing on Tommy’s doorstep in the middle of the night.

Tommy just stares for a moment, because it feels … out of context. Like maybe he’s dreaming. But then Adam smiles as he tucks his own phone into his back pocket and nope,apparently this is real. This is happening.

“I thought you were in Vegas,” is the first thing Tommy says as he steps back to let Adam into the apartment.

Adam - though he’s never been to this apartment before, heads unerringly for the kitchen.

Tommy trails along behind, feeling as though he’s missed something and he can’t catch up.

“I was,” Adam explains as he fills the kettle with water, setting it on to boil and rifling through cupboards until he finds what he’s looking for. 

He pulls out a box of teabags and grins at Tommy, looking so pleased that all Tommy can do is smile back.

He can’t parse this - Adam in his kitchen at 3am after not having spoken to him for a few months, but now that he’s here… Tommy finds that he doesn’t really mind.

It’s … nice, in a way. It kicks up old memories and Tommy finds that in his sleep-deprived state, they’re comforting rather than painful.

Hey, he’ll take it.

He settles himself on one of the stools by the island bar in the kitchen and leans his elbows on it, folding his arms.

“So - are you going to tell me why you’re in my kitchen at 3 in the morning when you’re supposed to be in Vegas? And when I haven’t seen you for months?”

He tries to keep his voice level. He doesn’t want to fight with Adam - never wants to fight with him, but he’s curious.

Adam pours water into two mugs, watching as the teabags change the colour of it. He pushes one across to Tommy, and settles on the other stool.

“I … sorry. I’m not sure why I’m here. I mean - there was some kind of technical glitch with the equipment for the video, and it put us a couple of days behind. I could have stayed there, in the hotel, but the walls kind of started closing in, and I don’t know. I wanted to see a friendly face?”

The last sounds like a question and Tommy sighs, buying time as he blows on his tea to cool it, even though he hates tea. The mug is warm, though, and he curls his hands around it, leaching comfort from it.

“It’s good to see you, don’t get me wrong. I’m just … surprised, is all.”

Adam smiles again then, bright and wide and Tommy can’t help grinning back.

It feels a little bit like the old days, spinning through God-knows-where on the tour bus and they’d be the only two awake in the middle of the night. 

They’d talk, quietly as the bus hummed on. And sometimes .. well, sometimes they’d still be quiet, but they wouldn’t be _talking_.

Tommy feels a pleasant shiver at that thought and catches Adam’s eye at the same time. Tommy licks his lips and takes a sip of the godawful tea.

“I don’t even know why I have this shit. I’ve always hated it.”

Adam quirks an eyebrow but says nothing as he drinks his own tea.

And okay. Tommy does know why he keeps the godawful herbal stuff around that Adam drinks.

He just … prefers not to examine it too closely.

They’d had a thing for a while. And it had been a great thing; a shining memory that Tommy does take out once in a while to look at when he’s feeling kind of down.

But. They were never meant to be … permanent. He knows that now. He also knows that Adam cottoned on to that first. That whatever Adam and Tommy were together, wasn’t going to last.

He sighs and puts the mug down on the countertop, shaking his head to dislodge that train of thought. Adam’s studying him and Tommy shivers again. It’s still …. pleasant, he finds, being under Adam’s scrutiny like that. Feeling like Adam’s eyes can see right inside him, into his head and heart.

Tommy puffs out a laugh at that. That … doesn’t sound like him at all.

“Should I … go? I can go to my place, if you ..”

Tommy shakes his head, takes a deep breath. “Nah. It’s okay. I’m just a bit … rattled,” he says, figuring honesty is best here.

Adam nods like he understands. “Okay, that makes sense. I didn’t mean to - “ he stops, puts his own mug down and spreads out his hands. The polish on them is chipped, and Tommy thinks vaguely he’ll have to get it redone before the shoot starts up again. 

He’s wearing several rings, and they catch in the low light of the kitchen.

Tommy nods, breathes in, breathes out and settles back on the stool.

This night can go two ways, he thinks as they sit companionably enough at the island, the silence that of old friends who have lived and loved and come out the other side. Still friends, but also older and warier, maybe, Tommy thinks.

But. They can sit here, politely drink their tea, chat; catch up on their lives and Adam will leave to get some sleep at his own place before driving back to Vegas.

Or … Tommy licks his lips again, biting the bottom one unconsciously. Or … his heartbeat kicks up and he shifts on the stool, the movement catching Adam’s eye.

It might be a bad idea, but Tommy will examine that later. For now .. Adam’s here, and he looks as good as Tommy’s ever seen him and - honestly, it’s been a long, long time since Tommy was fucked the way Adam fucks him.

He puts down his mug, slides off the stool and tilts his chin up, like an unconscious challenge.

“So - “ he has no idea what he might have said next. He doesn’t remember Adam moving. But the next thing Tommy knows he’s pinned against the wall and Adam is pressed against him in all of the best ways.

“So,” Adam repeats then, his voice soft and so close that Tommy can feel his breath against his own cheek. He tilts his head back as far as he can, exposing the line of his neck.

He sighs when Adam presses his lips against the pulse hammering away in his throat, bringing his hands up to tangle in Adam’s hair, grounding him.

Adam kisses a line up to Tommy’s jaw, nipping gently at the soft skin there.

“Is this - is this okay?”

Tommy lets out a shaky laugh, but he nods. “Yeah. This. This is okay. This is - “ his words are lost then, when Adam swallows them suddenly in a deep kiss.

Tommy freezes for a second, but then he opens up under Adam, as easy as always. It feels like coming home, and it feels like an odd kind of resolution at the same time.

He tucks that away, to bring out and examine later when his head and his senses aren’t completely full of Adam - his lips, and his eyes, so blue right now - roaming Tommy’s face.

“Bedroom is - it’s this way,” Tommy manages to get out, his voice sounding tight and far away as arousal starts to pulse through his blood.

He stumbles to the room, Adam right behind him. Tommy has the presence of mind to coax Etta out to her bed in the living room before shutting the bedroom door.

It feels oddly suspended, when the door clicks behind him, and there’s Adam, on his bed, taking off his boots. Tommy leans against the door and just watches, for a moment.

“You look .. really good,” he says, as Adam strips off his t-shirt. And - he does. A little skinny, maybe, but lean and toned and god, Tommy misses him.

He takes a deep breath and pushes away from the door.

They were never meant to be, but they can have this. Have this, and still be friends in the morning. And as much as Tommy misses Adam so much sometimes that his bones ache with it, he knows that’s a better trade-off than the alternative of shouting, and slammed doors and silence forever.

He steps forward, into Adam’s space and reaches out, sliding the tips of his fingers over Adam’s skin - his stomach; flat and toned, and the sharp cut of his hips, rising above the line of his black jeans.

They kiss for a while, making out like teenagers with hands everywhere and lips and tongues pressed to warm skin.

It’s intimate and lovely and a distant part of Tommy aches for what might have been, even as he enjoys what he has right now. Even as Adam slides inside of him, slow and careful and - “Yeah, fuck.”

He runs out of words then, devolving down into a series of moans and Adam’s name as Adam wraps himself around him and they both fall over together.

“So - when do you have to go back?”

Tommy’s resting his head on Adam’s chest, listening to his heartbeat thud out a soothing rhythm. He could fall asleep, he thinks vaguely. Or maybe write a song. Something … bass-heavy that sounds like Adam’s heartbeat.

Adam runs his fingers through the long strands of Tommy’s hair, idly playing with it. He runs his hand down Tommy’s back, and up again; the touch of Adam’s warm, broad hand stroking him like that making Tommy shiver.

“Shoot starts again on Tuesday. So I should head back tomorrow.”

Tommy nods, and presses a kiss against Adam’s stomach, half-tempted to dig his teeth in and leave a mark behind.

“One more day.”

“Yeah,” Adam says as Tommy shifts to straddle him, leaning down for a kiss.

“One more day.”


End file.
